~Fritz's POV~
My daughtera, how beautifully they sleep, with their hair interwining. So nice, so peaceful, dearly calm. This reminds me of something... A nice day of fishing. My rickety boat on the steady water, flowing wind going through the my tiny shreds of hair. I want to see Filomena jump into the water, how funny that would be. She'd drown, as she can't swim. How funny! Just imagine, PLOP!, and the child is gone. Just imagine.
~Filomena's POV~
"Let's go fishing," Fritz smiles, "Wouldn't it be fun?"
I groan, "No, it wouldn't."
The outdoors hasn't always been a very satisfying time for me. It's best at night. The darkness surrounds you with a still, cold air. A few gusts of wind, and, oh, your eyes don't hurt from that annoying sun.
"Bah," I say, groaning once again, "Humbug."
"You sound like Scrooge," Arjana giggles, "I think a nice fishing trip will be a lot of fun. Plus, you get to talk things over with your old pops."
"I'd rather stick my head in a fire ant hole," I say, using it as a form of insulting him.
"You're no fun," Fritz whines, I guess he's being dramatic instead of scolding me.
My feet ponder into the kitchen, leaving them in the cornered hallway that I so deeply hate. So many memories, before Arjana, before Gloria. Fritz would beat me because I "Called him a drunk". Meanwhile, there's five bottles of beer on his night stand, thirteen in the fridge, and one in his hand. What does he think I am? Must be a fool to think I'm weaker than him. Damn, by age eight I was already superior to that man.
YOU ARE READING
Just Remember
HorrorA young poet is revealed the truth about her family. The mother who died to have her, as the creepypasta's take care of the daughter, who is threatened.
